


You Just Sprouted Love Handles

by GlitterSkullFairy



Series: Prompts for Smiles [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, LuciferLockDown, Post-Season/Series 04, PromptSmiles, Romantic Fluff, Slightly crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23232103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterSkullFairy/pseuds/GlitterSkullFairy
Summary: From the prompt: Instead of Love Handles being a dream, it’s realFor @karenchan28 on Twitter
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Prompts for Smiles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831924
Comments: 18
Kudos: 144
Collections: Prompts for Smiles





	You Just Sprouted Love Handles

**Author's Note:**

> Keep calm  
> and  
> read fanfic!

Chloe sits at the piano in the empty club, her fingers tapping randomly at the keys. The discordant notes echo the sense of wrongness in her heart, the void where Lucifer should have been. To say she misses him is a superlative understatement. She aches. Every minute of the day, from when she wakes up in the apartment he found for her until she goes to bed, wishing he could be at her side. Work is the hardest. Dead bodies seem more dead. Ideas and solutions come more slowly. She keeps expecting to turn around and see him grinning at the wrong time, but there's no one there. Someone will make a comment that's begging for an innuendo, and she'll inwardly smile but then break a little when it doesn't come. It's been four months and she hasn't got a new partner yet- at least not one that's lasted more than a few days. No one can replace him.

Dan, bizarrely, has turned out to be an absolute rock. Almost like he's trying to atone for something. Maybe it's all the years things went wrong. Maybe it's something else. But he's looking after Trixie whenever she needs a break, and helping her out at work, and doing everything he can to be supportive.

She hears the sound of feet on the stairs, but they drift to a stop. She doesn't turn around. It's probably just Maze, but for a moment she can imagine it's someone else. Just pretend.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears his voice.

"You really should at least learn to play chopsticks, there's a distinct lack of quality tunes in Hell and I'd rather not come home to that racket."

There's a loud clatter as she knocks over the bench in her eagerness to run to him. He looks a little bedraggled in a dusty suit with a few stray locks of hair curling over his brow, but what does that matter? She almost flies up the stairs and into his arms, kissing him before he has the chance to say anything else. Her lips press hard against his, clinging to him, making her believe that it's real.

"Detective?" he says, but it comes out muffled and that strikes her as very funny. She pulls back as the giggles erupt from deep in her belly. She keeps her hands in on his face, keeps their foreheads pressed together as she's overwhelmed with joy and a little light headed.

"Are you quite all right?" he asks, but he's smiling- a soft, tentative smile like he's still unsure if it's actually happening.

"I thought I'd lost you forever! But you're back. You're here."

Before he can answer, she's kissing him again, and now he's kissing back. And it's not like any kiss they've had before. It still carries all the love, all the emotion that the others did, but this one is quickly becoming overloaded by an underlying need to be as close as physically possible.

They're stepping towards the elevator with their faces still joined together. There are so many questions, so many things that they need to talk about, but all of that can wait. None of it as important as the yearning of her body and soul to feel him near.

"I need you," she gasps, and the doors open into the penthouse. 

They pause for a moment, sharing their breath, realising that this is it, this is the moment that they're finally going to be together. She lurches toward him, overwhelmed by urgency, shoving him back against the wall as their mouths join again. He stumbles backwards briefly, but then pushes back, guiding her into the room.

Her hands trail down his neck and over his lapels, and his jacket feels dirty so she pushes it from his shoulders. He lets it fall to the floor and pulls off her coat, sending it in the same direction. She can feel the heat of his body through his shirt, feel the tightening of his muscles as he lifts her up onto the piano. 

He's smiling now, a much more confident smile. One might even say diabolical. It sends a shiver down her spine. Then there's a frantic dash and she's grabbing at the buttons of his waistcoat, his shirt as he keeps kissing her. Once it's out the way-and oh, the feel of his skin under her fingers- he's lifting her up, his hands on her rear as he carries her effortlessly to the couch. His back is smooth, no signs of the scars now that he had his wings back. He’s whole, and perfect, and just as he should be. Her Lucifer. Her Devil. 

She rocks against him, feeling his need but still he stops her to ask, “Detective? Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Shut up,” she tells him with a smile and starts kissing him again, proving that this is exactly what she wants. His face is buried in her neck as she runs her fingers through the back of his hair, so velvety soft, and up higher because she really wants to thoroughly mess up those imperfect locks, when she feels something unexpected. She sits back and looks at him, he’s still grinning, with two enormous red horns growing out of his temples.

“What?” he asks, perplexed by the look of surprise in her face.

Her fingertips graze over the hard surface of one horn, checking it’s real, wondering if he can feel it. “You’ve just sprouted love handles,” she says.

“What?” His brow creases in confusion, and he glances up at his reflection in the ceiling. _”What?”_ he repeats more angrily as he sees what she means. He hoists her off his lap, dumping her on the couch and goes to the window, touching his face, touching and poking at the horns. “Oh, bloody Hell!”

“Lucifer, it’s okay!”

“But I’ve got _horns!”_ he wails. “I look like a bloody _goat!”_

“Lucifer-”

It’s too late. He’s pacing the room, running his hands through his hair and gesticulating as he rants. “It had to happen, didn’t it. I mean, it was expecting too much for something to go right for a change. Every time I think I might just have a chance of real happiness, and then smack- my damnation hits me right in the gluteus maximus. Of course I’ve got bloody horns. I’m the bloody Devil, and Someone isn’t likely to let me forget it, even after I go grovelling back to him, on literal bended knee, asking for another chance.”

“You… you saw your Dad?”

“Three centuries. Three hundred years, I lasted, which is nothing really, in Hell terms. But I never stopped missing you. I thought it would get easier, but it only got worse. So I went begging. Which was probably His plan all along, and that smarts like a needle on the eye, but this?” He waved at his head. “This is just adding insult to injury.”

“Three… hundred…?” Her mind reels at the enormity of it. He’d waited that long? _For her?_

“But of course it isn't _Him_ is it? Doctor Linda is going to tear me to pieces for this. Horns! My subconscious has decided to manifest itself with enormous pointy horns, what’s that supposed to signify, eh? Apart from my own self-sabotage spoiling what should be a perfect reunion. Bollocks! I honestly thought I’d got the whole self-actualisation thing under control, after the dragon wings and the scorch marks and the-”

He stops talking abruptly as his head is yanked sideways. Chloe has him by one horn, and she’s pulling him down and grabbing the other one, and then she’s kissing him, just as passionately as she was before if not more. She’s not going to let anything get in the way, not this time. There have been too many obstacles, too many misunderstandings and interferences and there is nothing that can come between them anymore. His hands wrap around her waist and hold onto her as if for dear life. Slowly, her hands slide down to his face, caressing his cheeks and his jaw. They break apart, panting.

“So then horns aren’t going to be an issue, I take it?” he says, his smile slowly returning.

She shakes her head and then tilts it sideways. “They’re… um, actually, I kinda like them. They’re kinda hot.”

He smirks, and pulls her up against him. “I see. So you like a horny Devil, do you?”

She moans happily, partly at the terrible pun (which she’s missed so much) and partly from the quickening of her desires. “Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”

“Of course. Sorry.” He lifts her up again and she throws her legs around his hips. He carries her to the bed and lays her down. “Can I just say one more thing?”

“Okay, but just one.”

He settles beside her. His hand slides down the side of her face, and his eyes hold a hint of scarlet fire as he gazes at her. “I love you.”

Her heart lurches at the words she’s waited so long to hear, knowing that for him it’s been so much longer. “I love you too.”

They kiss again, soft, tender and lingering. Her hands reach up and she traces the lines of his horns again. They feel firm and glossy and unexpectedly warm and alive. He shivers.

“You can feel that?”

“Mmm. It’s…” he rolls his head, like a cat butting against her hand. “It’s wonderful.”

“You’re staying this time right? I mean even if you aren’t, I still… but are you staying?”

“I’m staying. I’ve officially abdicated. It’s done.”

She grabs him by the horns and kisses him, and doesn’t stop kissing him until they’re lying naked under the covers, breathless and spent. 

Together. As they were always meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any other prompts you'd like to see in this collection, drop a tweet to NotOneLine here:  
> https://twitter.com/NotOneLineFF/status/1239894371069198339


End file.
